Where He Walks
by Bananas102
Summary: When Dean makes the deal for Sam's life, the demon tell him right off the bat something he never thought he'd hear: Sam's a demon. But he doesn't believe her and does the deal anyway. What happens when it turns out she wasn't lying...
1. Chapter 1

Samuel Matthew Winchester.

One of Azazel's children.

The Boy King.

* * *

Dean stood in the middle of the crossroads, face to face with a demon, thinking of his brother laying unmoving on the mattress back at the house.

"Dean," she said, smiling. "It is so, so good to see you."

She stepped forward. "I mean it. I mean, look at you," she crooned. "Got your family killed, all alone in the world. It's too sweet."

She smirked.

"You got to give me a moment," she said, getting up close and personal, only a few inches from Dean's face. "Sometimes you gotta stop and smell the roses."

Dean didn't bat an eye. "I could send you straight back to hell."

She shrugged. "You could." The demon walked around him, and Dean turned his head a fraction to the left. "But you won't."

"And I know why." Dean huffed. "Oh yeah?"

She looked up at him. "Following in Daddy's footsteps. You want to make a deal."

"Little Sammy back from the dead, and let me guess, your own soul in return?"

Dean swallowed. "There are about a hundred demons out there who would love it get their hands on it. You just have to bring Sam back. Just give me 10 years."

She raised an eyebrow, and Dean's frown deepened. "That's the same deal you give everybody else."

"You're not everybody else. Besides, I don't know that you'd want little Sammy back anyway."

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. "What?"

She smiled, a real one that time. "Sam's dead. But you know that. But where is he?"

Dean frowned in confusion.

She sighed in annoyance. "Sammy's in Hell, Dean."

Dean's eyes widened and his lips parted just a fraction.

"But," she chided. "It's not so simple. You know Sammy's special. We all do. He's the Boy King."

Dean swallowed. "He's what?"

"The Boy King. Heir to the throne of Hell. And, uh...since he so _special, _he was immediately turned when he arrived."

She looked gleeful.

Dean exhaled shakily. "What do you mean 'turned'?" he asked in a low voice.

The demon laughed, loud and full. "What do I mean?! He's a demon, you moron. Your precious little Sammy is black-eyed now."

Dean shook his head, squaring his shoulders. "You're lying." She grinned. "Am I?"

"Demons lie. Bring him back."

She shrugged. "It's a risky bet."

Dean swallowed. "Five years."

"No."

"Four."

"Nope."

"Three. Final offer."

She rolled her eyes. "Tell you what. I'll give you one. You try to squirm out of it; even _look _for a way out: Sam drops cold and he's dragged back to hell."

Dean froze.

"Done."

They kissed.

* * *

Sam's eyes flew open.

Pitch black.

* * *

Dean rounded the corner. He froze as his gaze landed on his brother standing at the foot of the bed, frowning.

"Sam," he breathed. Dean immaediately crossed he distance between them and pulled his brother's lanky frame into his embrace. Sam twitched, then blinked. He sat down on the bed. His hazel eyes flickered up to meet Dean's.

Dean frowned. "Sam?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I know what you've done," he said. His voice was low, but carried no resemblance of concern.

Dean swallowed. "What?" Sam looked his up and down. "I can almost smell it," he rasped, his eye fluttering closed and his breathed in deeply through his nose.

Sam's eye snapped open to reveal the true black one. "The bitch was right you know."

Dean looked at him with wide eyes and barely parted lips. Sam smirked, getting to his feet.

"It's funny, really. I turned as soon as I touched the fire."

Dean flinched. "You're not my brother," he told him. Sam's smirk fell, and his deep eyes seemed to grow heavy. "I am, Dean."

His brother swallowed hard. "No, you're not. And now what are you going to do? Kill me?"

Sam frowned. "No, Dean. I couldn't kill you."

"Why?"

"The reason remains the same. You're my brother."

* * *

Dean looked over at Sam, who was staring out the window of the car.

"So, what's it like being a demon?"

Sam looked down momentarily, before his eyes snapped up to look at Dean's face. "It's...different."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?" Sam narrowed his eyes. "No."

Dean let it go.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked softly, tone a lot less hostile than it was a moment ago.

Dean turned onto a gravel back road. "I figure we should swing by Bobby's." Sam snorted, and Dean spared his brother a quick glance. "Dean, Bobby will exorcise me in an instant. Besides, it's not like I can really go far with the traps."

"We'll try to explain, Sam. It's all we can do. Speaking of which, why do demons fight so hard to stop from going to hell? Aren't they like, the staff or something."

Sam deadpanned.

"No."


	2. Chapter 2

Sam had been right, however. Bobby had instantly sensed something wrong with the air Sam put off and doused him with holy water, leaving him a screaming and steaming mess on his porch.

Dean was forced to interfere when Bobby started rattling off the beginnings of an exorcism. "Bobby, will you listen?!" Dean groaned. "Sam's a demon, yeah. He's a little different, yeah. But he's still my little brother. He's still Sam."

Bobby gave him a death glare but seemed to calm, if just a fraction. "Sam? You alright?" Dean called, not quite finding it in himself to trust Bobby to not Fedex his baby bro off to hell in a moments pause.

Sam groaned, knuckles white as he gripped the doorframe and he pulled himself to his feet. "Yeah," he choked out. To his benefit, he recovered pretty quickly.

He looked at Bobby. "Look, I can't exactly apologize for being a demon. It came in the package of my freaky vision powers. But I can promise that I'm not going to hurt you, if that still means something to you."

Dean raised an eyebrow at the older hunter.

"See? He's not ripping our heads off. That's gotta count for something, right?"

* * *

Bobby and Dean would talk outside while Sam stayed all nice and safe in the trap. That was the deal.

Sam snarled on the inside. He could rip them apart. The urge was always there, right beneath the skin. To scream as he ripped the limbs off their bodies, soaking the ground with blood. He was so angry. All the time.

It was an all-consuming rage that burned as hot as the flames of hell. It devoured all other emotions, like a gluttonous monster gorging itself on it's helpless prey. Sam's human and demon sides were constantly at battle, both fighting for dominance. The ultimate power play.

If the demon side won, Sam would fall into the very dark and twisted pit of anger and malicious evil as every other demon that walked the earth. And he was pretty sure there wasn't any coming back.

His human side was still clinging to the top at the moment. However, it was stretched thin from the constant stress of his demon traits and keeping them under control as well as the mental scars he'd received down under. Dean's faith was more or less the only thing keeping him (his human side) at the wheel.

Dean. Sam hadn't been lying earlier; his brother's soul already had a tainted scent to it. The price tag of a demon.

One side of him wanted to scream and demand a reason for his sudden burst of stupidity and the other wanted to laugh at it.

It was almost like having two personalities.

A creak in the direction of the stairs had Sam turning his head. Dean was walking towards him with a smile. "You're home free, Sammy."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Really? What's the catch?" Dean smiled sheepishly, one and reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "You sorta have to stay under watch here. Just for a few days." Sam eyed the place.

"Making sure I don't blow some fuse and start killing people," he said in an eerily calm voice. Dean pursed his lips, which was answer enough. Sam glared up at the trap on the ceiling. "Do I have to stay in here?"

Dean shook his head. "No. Bobby'll let you out in a minute." Sam nodded. Dean seemed a bit uneasy then, shifting aimlessly from one foot to the other. "You're waiting for me to chew you out," Sam sighed.

He shrugged.

"Part of me wants to clock you one," he said. Dean nodded in understanding, staying silent. "Another part of me is curious as to why you did it." Confusion started to show on his face, but Sam figured he should nip that one in the bud.

"For someone like _me_."

But Dean still looked utterly confused. But he then went calm. "I couldn't live with you dead, Sammy."

Sam suddenly snarled. "No! Why would you do that for some_thing_ like me?"

Dean gave him a sympathetic look that only be described as loving as caring. And for some reason Sam wanted to punch it off his face.

"I don't think of you as a demon. I think of you as Sam."

Sam blinked a few times.

"Okay."

* * *

Sam started reading up on demon deals. He already had firsthand informations about demons themselves so he didn't need to waste time on that.

He'd also been able to keep his actions wraps, but of course one of them had to figure it out eventually.

"Tryin' to find a way to get Dean outta it, huh?"

Sam head snapped up and he did nothing to hide the frown or confusion he felt. For the last few days, it was like Bobby didn't even acknowledge his existence one minute, and then in the next he was staring at him like he was waiting for the change to exorcise him.

"Yeah." Bobby huffed and muttered something under his breath about 'stupid boys' but settled down in a chair near him. He eyeballed the obscene stack of books to Sam's right. "You certainly read a helluva lot faster now."

Sam smiled, but not quite in the sweet way it should have been. "It's kinda nice, actually." Bobby chuckled. "Dean hears that and he'll start spewing that bookworm crap at you again." Sam shrugged, watching Bobby carefully through his bangs.

"I've been pretty hostile towards you the last couple'a days," Bobby said. He narrowed his eyes. "And don't you think that I don't know that you know."

Sam smirked. "I know."

There was a small twitch at the corner of Bobby's mouth, and with Sam's faster reflexes, there was no way he missed it. There was a surprising warmth in his chest at the thought that he was gaining the old man's trust. If Bobby found out he called him an old man, mentally or not, there'd be hell to pay.

Bobby looked him straight in the eye.

"Dean trusts you, boy. And, hell, I'm starting to trust you too."


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm real sorry about not updating and the crappy condition and length of the first two chapters. I'm trying to work on it, but I don't have much time nowadays.**

* * *

Two Months Later:

"Sam, watch out!" Sam whirled around with breathtaking gracefulness, one hand shooting out to grab the demon by the neck. He grinned maliciously, his eyes a deep obsidian.

The demon choked, writhing in his grasp. "Too slow," Sam hissed. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica, Ergo draco maledicte et sectio Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolicaUt Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, audi nos," he rattled off, watching in sick pleasure as the black smoke drained through the floorboards.

Dean came up behind him, panting. "You okay?" Sam cocked his head and blinked, his eyes returning to their normal hazel.

"I'm fine. We should go."

Over the months, Sam had grown steadily stronger, and was now definitely more powerful than the average demon. As far as his dual personalities went, they agreed to work hand in hand to help protect Dean and kill whoever was behind his deal.

Dean nodded, leading the way out of the rusted warehouse and down the gravel road to where the Impala sat, gleaming under the light of the moon. Sam suddenly stiffened, his eyes flashing black again. "Sam?"

Sam's upper lip raised in a snarl. He turned and a man stood there, arms crossed, and wearing the most punch worthy smirk Dean had ever seen. With light blonde hair and dark blue eyes, he just seemed like a stereotypical jerk. "Hey, Sam," he sneered. "Finally crawled your way out of that blood pit, did you?"

Dean watched as Sam's snarl twisted into a terrifyingly cruel grin. "Fredrick. Finally grew a spine for that scum soul of yours in your time in the flames? Oh that's right, you never could stomach it."

Fredrick scowled. "Everything's gone to hell down there. After you killed Azazel and helped shut the gate, you start hunting with your human brother. Way to dig yourself a hole."

Sam folded his arms across his chest, his face betraying nothing. "I have my reasons."

Dean held his hands up. "Okay, whoa, what the hell? Who are you? And what sorry soul would name you _Fredrick_, for God's sake?"

Fredrick deadpanned. "I don't remember including you in the conversation, Winchester." Dean shrugged. "If Sam's involved, so am I." Sam frowned. "Dean." Dean looked back at Sam, who shook his head slightly.

"You didn't come here just to goad me; what do you want?"

The demon nodded. "True. I've been sent with news from Lilith: she's coming for your head."

Dean blinked a few times. "Excuse me? What the hell did he ever do to her? And who is Lilith?" he bit out through gritted teeth. Fredrick ignored him, his midnight eyes continually trained on Sam. "Why does she want my head? I've never dealt with her."

His brother threw up his hands. "Whatever. Just frickin' ignore me, see if I friggin' care," he muttered angrily.

The blonde demon rolled his eyes. "You haven't heard, have you? When Azazel kicked the bucket, the throne to hell fell on your lap." Both brothers froze in their tracks, Dean's green eyes flickering over to Sam to take in his reaction.

Sam swallowed visibly. "Why'd they give it to me?"

Fredrick laughed. "Are you kidding me? You're were Azazel's prized possession. His best creation. Of course it went to you. Some of Azazel's followers have come to your aid, and that's the only reason Lilith doesn't already rule Hell."

He blinked. "In my opinion, you should get down there and sit your ass in that chair before you do anymore damage."

Sam scowled. "I don't want it," he argued, hands curling into fists.

Fredrick shook his head, smiling in amusement. "You don't really have a choice, Sammy." Sam took a step forward, towering over him threateningly. His hazel eyes were swallowed by black and anger took over his features.

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

Dean couldn't help but take a step back. Sam had never liked demons calling him that, but he'd never seen him so livid. Fredrick raised his hands in mock surrender.

Sam exhaled and the black receded to show his hazel irises.

"Whatever. But whether you like it or not, Sam, you're in this war. Either you take the throne, or she does."

Fredrick reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a manilla envelope. He tossed it to Sam, who caught it with one hand and frowned questioningly. "And if you don't step up, she'll kill everyone."

His vessel opened his mouth and screamed, loud and long as black smoke streamed out of his mouth and into the air, swirling off into the night. Dean swallowed nervously and approached his brother, eyes flickering from Sam's face to the envelope in his hand.

Dean looked at him questioningly, and Sam shrugged before tearing the envelope open and pulling out a wet piece of black cloth. Sam's face darkened when a familiar scent wafted up his nose.

"Smells of hellfire," he muttered darkly. Dean didn't like the way Sam said that, and he sniffed quietly in an attempt to try and smell anything but the moisture in the night air.

As Sam held the cloth in between his fingers, a red substance seeped from it, trailing down his hand, and dripped onto the ground. Dean knelt down and pressed a finger to the liquid so he could inspect it closer.

"Is this...blood?"

Sam brought the cloth up to his face and breathed in. He inhaled sharply, his eyes momentarily flashing midnight. "Yeah. It's Lilith's," he growled.

Dean could see that Sam was angry, but he didn't know why. "Sammy, does this mean something?"

"It's a...declaration of sorts," Sam replied, stuffing the cloth back into the envelope and wiping the blood off on his pants. He began walking away, but Dean, being unsatisfied with his answer, grabbed his shoulder to turn him around.

"_Don't touch me!" _Sam snarled, and Dean drew back, mentally chiding himself. It was one of the things Sam couldn't stand anymore. Physical contact without warning was a huge no-no.

It was possible to touch him without Sam freaking out, but it only worked with Dean, and it had to be done slowly, gently, and in Sam's line of sight. Another thing Sam had problems with was heat.

While understandable, it was also pretty inconvenient. On days where it was too hot outside for Sam's liking, he preferred to stay inside.

Dean stook a step back. "Sorry," he said. Sam took a deep breath. "Let's go," was all he said. Dean slipped his hands into his pockets and followed after him. Sam wasn't nearly the person he used to be.

He was now, though didn't like to say it like that, a demon. Barely any compassion and an unparalleled rage. The only thing separating Sam from the others was the very thin layer of humanity his little brother still clung to.

And by God, Dean would keep it that way if it was the last thing he did. But Bobby had once pointed out that when Dean was gone, there was nothing to stop Sam from going off the tracks, and Dean knew it, he knew that's exactly what would happen.

Which meant that sooner or later, Sam would be exorcised by a hunter he couldn't beat, and the two brothers would be bunking down in hell.

Dean couldn't bring himself to regret the deal, but he couldn't find much hope for Sam living hell-free for long after Dean was gone.

So what the hell was he supposed to do?


End file.
